by Fel
"I didn't think that you could do anything," he told her quietly.
She gave him another look. "Would you prefer to try to sleep now?" she asked.
"No, I can wait," he assured her.
"Tell me about these dreams," she said.
Tarrin closed his eyes. "I don't remember them when I wake up," he told her, "but whatever they are, they scare me so bad that I'm stone cold sober and awake when I do wake up. It's strange...the dreams just vanish like mist the instant I wake up, as if they'd never been. All it leaves me is the memory of being afraid."
"Interesting," she said. "You remember nothing at all? Not even a flash, an impression?"
"No," he replied. "I think I remembered them on that first night, but since then, nothing."
"We cannot let you go on like this," she said. "Lack of sleep has different effects on people, but a common one is increased aggression. That is something that you can definitely do without. If the medicines do not work, I will have to resort to magic."
"Why not use magic in the first place?"
"Tarrin, it is very complicated," she told him. "To put it very briefly, I have an exceptionally difficult time using magic on you that affects the mind. You are not human, Tarrin, and the alien nature of your mind does not allow me to use mind-affecting weaves as I could use them on humans. You do not think the same way that I do, and I must have an idea of how a target thinks in order to weave together a spell that can affect those thoughts. When I wove the spell that holds the instinctual side of your mind in check, it nearly killed me. I had to rely on raw power to overcome my unfamiliarity with your mind. And look at the results. I think the spell totally unravelled at least two days ago. Such a short respite for so much effort."
"It did?"
She nodded. "I am surprised that you did not notice."
"Maybe I did," he said. "They've been....loud lately. I've started doing things without thinking, things I think that the Cat is making me do."
"What things?"
"Little things," he admitted. "Like smelling before I open a door, or checking my room before I rest. I think the Cat can hear my own thoughts, because sometimes it acts on what I'm thinking or feeling. Like what happened with Jarax."
"He told me about that," she said.
"I wanted him to be quiet, but he wouldn't shut up...so I growled at him."
"Are you sure that you are not hungry?" she asked.
"I'm sure," he said.
"I will have the cook keep something for you, just in case."
Tarrin heard a faint sound, almost like the fluttering of a sheet in the wind. He looked up, but the sails were rather slack in the still air; the sailors were not even tending them, they were standing around on the deck waiting for a wind to come along. "What is it, Tarrin?" Dolanna asked. He put a paw up to quell any further questions.
But after a few moments, he gave up on it. He had no idea where it had come from...it could have been a branch slapping into another. "I don't know, maybe I'm hearing things," he told her. "You should--"
He heard it again, closer this time, and from another direction. He looked up towards the bow of the ship--
--then he was diving to the side, carrying Dolanna with him, as a loud crash shook the ship, and large pieces of the rigging and mast slammed into the deck. Tarrin was up in an instant, as a huge reptillian-like bird writhed in the rigging, shrieking a loud, high-pitched scream and thrashing at the sails and ropes. "It's a Wyvern!" Dolanna shouted in sudden fear and anger as the creature systematically destroyed the sails, and broke off another piece of the mast. It gave another keening cry as chaos erupted on the deck, sailors scrambling every which way to avoid whipping ropes and falling spars. The creature was nearly twenty spans long, not counting its tail, and its large wings beat heavily at the air with every stroke as it used its huge, wickedly clawed feet to rip at the rigging. Its tail had a noticable barbed tip, and its black scales gleamed in the morning light. Its red eyes glared balefully as it screeched, thrashing apart the intricate rigging and working its way to the deck. Sailors started to scramble towards the gangways, getting away from the huge monstrosity. Tarrin watched helplessly as that barbed tail shot down like a javelin and impaled one hapless man in the back. He stiffened instantly, then fell limply to the deck when the sharp point was pulled away, his skin already beginning to turn black from the venom.
He had to do something. It was too large for the sailors to fight, and with it up there and them down here, there was nothing that they could do except for get stung by that tail. Unthinkingly, Tarrin popped out his claws, laid back his ears, and growled at the creature menacingly, his eyes flaring up from within with an unholy greenish aura. Those two slits of evil glared right into the creature's reddish eyes without fear, challenging it without words. More sailors scrambled safely away as Tarrin held its attention, and Dolanna groggily got back to her feet.
The monster crashed to the deck with enough force to make the entire ship tremble, smashing planking under its feet as it dropped from its perch in the ruined rigging. It towered over Tarrin, barely able to fit on the deck, but Tarrin just growled at it menacingly, hunching down and putting his paws out wide in an instinctive, reflexive battle stance. "Tarrin, have you lost your mind!?" Dolanna shouted at him angrily, even as she raised her hands at the creature and started weaving a spell.
The creature lunged its head at him, faster than a striking snake, but Tarrin was even faster. He slipped just aside of those wicked jaws and raked it right across the snout, almost getting its eye. He got in another good rake on the end of its nose as it snapped back, howling in pain, shaking its head as blood flew in all directions. Tarrin hunkered down and grabbed a barrel, then lifted it as the expected tail-stinger lanced in at him with blazing speed. He put the barrel in its path, and was pushed back as the stinger slammed into the full barrel. Digging his claws into the deck, he stopped the momentum of the stinger, amazingly with the barrel intact, then threw the barrel and tail aside. The barrel was stuck on the end of the Wyvern's tail, regardless of the creature's whipping attempts to free its venemous stinger of the obstructing object.
A sheet of pure fire flashed out and up, right into the monster's face, as Dolanna's spell was fully formed and unleashed. The Wyvern howled in agony as the curtain of fire continued to sear at its scales and crisp the flesh of the open wounds Tarrin had put in its face. It desperately lunged forward, making Dolanna break the spell to literally dive over the edge of the rail to escape the creature's snapping maw. Tarrin tried to slash it, but the creature's great weight, put on only one side of the narrow-beamed vessel, was making the whole ship list dangerously to that side. The rail was almost in the water as the Wyvern started skidding forward, and that low level allowed Tarrin to reach into the river and pluck Dolanna out of the current by the back of her dress. Sinking his claws into the deck, he carried the wet woman up the steeply angled decking, out of the thrashing Wyvern's reach. The Wyvern had too much weight on one side, and as it tried to turn around to get back into the middle of the ship, the railing broke against its leg and it tumbled into the water.
The ship rocked wildly, catapulting Tarrin all the way across the ship as many sailors, and Walten, were hurled over the sides, as well as the horses and what wasn't nailed down that was on the deck. Tarrin had to wildly throw out one paw and snag his claws into the rail to keep from going over the other side. He managed to keep hold of Dolanna, but that grip tightened as the Wyvern hooked its wing over the railing and pulled, dragging the ship's starboard rail under the water's surface as it tried to clamber back onto the ship. Many of the people below, who were eating breakfast, were just now getting to the doors, among them Faalken, who were armed to the teeth to repel the monstrous invader. But at that moment, they were all grasping onto anything that would not slide across the deck. The ship listed higher and higher, until the deck was almost vertical to the water, as the Wyvern tried to drag itself back onto the ship. The horses were swimming frantically t
owards the far bank, just putting distance between them and the Wyvern.
"Goddess, it is going to capsize the ship!" Dolanna screamed in fright.
"Everyone over the rail!" Tarrin heard Renneè's terrified voice scream over the din, then he shouted it again in the language of his own people. He looked down, right into the Wyvern's face, seeing that one of its eyes had been burned away, and smoke was wafting from the charred flesh of the wounds he had given it. It was mad from pain, and it did not realize that capsizing the ship would most likely kill it as the ship's weight rolled over it and pinned it underneath. Sailors were diving off the ship in every direction, even right past the Wyvern, but the creature's eyes were fixed balefully on Tarrin and Tarrin alone.
Grabbing Dolanna by the waist, he set his feet into the deck with his claws and grabbed her with both paws. "What are you doing?" she demanded as he hefted her over his head.
"I'm saving your life!" he answered. Then he threw her, with every ounce of strength in him. She sailed far downstream, a good thirty spans, and crashed noisily into the water well clear of the Wyvern.
Tarrin grabbed onto the rail and pulled himself over it as the Wyvern's wing hooked around the mast, and it hefted to drag its weight back out of the water. The ship lurched violently, rolling up even higher as it was pulled down by the monster's weight. Tarrin saw Faalken and Tiella jump over the side, as Renneè tried to keep hold of the railing, then lost his grip and dropped out of view. Tarrin glanced away for a moment, back towards shore. He thought that he may be able to jump to one of the branches overhanging the river. He turned his back to the Wyvern, set himself in a sitting crouch, and then sprang.
He extended fully in the air, his paws reaching for anything to which they could grab hold. He just barely reached the foliage with his spring, but he got paws full of twigs and leaves, the branches to which they were attached supporting the sudden increase in weight. The tip of Tarrin's tail brushed the water as he bobbed down, then he hauled himself up and onto a sturdy branch, then he turned and looked.
The Wyvern had pulled the ship about as far as it could go without rolling. Tarrin could see half of the ship's keel and the rudder. Then the ship shimmied to one side, and it rolled over on the Wyvern with a thunderous crash that sent white spray high into the air. The Wyvern screeched once before the ship rolled over onto it, then the ship rocked upside down several times. Then it began to move.
The Wyvern was pushing the ship from underneath.
Tarrin looked at Dolanna, who had managed to swim upstream somewhat. The sailors were all swimming for the opposite bank, the bank farther from the Wyvern, the bank where Renneè was standing and calling to his crew. Tarrin was about to say something, but the hideous stench of Trolls struck his nose like a hammer.
He looked down, and saw three of them, approaching the tree where he was. All of them were armed with spears, and he could hear more of them over the shouts of sailors and the rocking swish of the ship.
He couldn't jump into the water, not with that Wyvern between him and the other shore. And he couldn't fight so many Trolls alone. That left only one recourse. Flight. But if he fled, he doubted that he could rejoin Dolanna and the others. With the ship capsized, they would most likely flee in every direction, and they were all soaked, which would make it impossible for him to track by scent.
Dolanna had seen the Trolls, he was certain, for it explained what she shouted to him. "The Tower!" she called. "Go to the Tower! Go west to the coast, and then south to Suld! I will see you there!"
Tarrin nodded, even as the first spear arced in. Tarrin ducked under it frantically. It had been an elaborate trap, and an effective one. If it didn't kill him, it did separate him from the others, leaving him to survive on his own. He vaulted higher into the tree, scrambling into the high branches with the grace of a squirrel, using his claws and strength and agility to get out of sight of those spears. They chased him up the tree, several missing him only by a whisker. Then he felt the whole tree shudder. He looked down, and saw five Trolls working the tree back and forth, trying to uproot it. He'd have scoffed at such a notion, for the tree was old and it was huge, but the tree was already swaying alarmingly. He had no doubt that they could do it. He looked around frantically, and noticed that the branches of another tree were rather close by.
High over the ground, Tarrin vaulted from one tree to the next with surprising ease, landing on all fours on a sturdy branch. The Trolls below all shouted and pointed at him, and it occurred to Tarrin that, as old as this forest was and how thick and large the trees were, he could go quite a distance before having to touch the ground. And if he could get a few minutes out of sight of the Trolls, he could lose them. But travelling in the trees wasn't as fast as moving on the ground, he discovered quickly, and Trolls had outstanding eyesight.
For two long hours, Tarrin scrambled through the branches, trying to get far enough ahead of the Trolls to hide, or come down onto the ground and run at a faster speed without getting a spear in his back. But there were a lot of Trolls; the air was literally befouled by the stench of so many. There had to be a hundred of them, and most of them were following him with their surprisingly fast lumbering gait, and they tried to knock down any tree he stopped in for any amount of time. They couldn't get him down, and he couldn't get away from them. He moved in totally random directions, often going in circles. Once he stopped to rest, but a spear had blasted in and came about two fingers' width from his nose. It had almost startled him out of the tree.
Tarrin was almost exhausted, feeling the effects of lack of sleep, running on pure adrenalin and depending on the Cat's skills of the forest. It helped him know which branches weren't safe to jump to, it kept him from going in a predictable direction and letting them get ahead of him. He saw daylight in front of him, too low to be anything but a break in the woods. He kept moving towards it, planning to cut in one direction or another when he reached the edge, but he stopped once he got there.
It was either the same river or another one. He had no idea. It didn't look quite like the other river, though, for the water was not as muddy on this river. What made him stop was that the river was deep, very deep, and it was at least fifty spans across. Just like the other river, the branches of the trees overhung the river a goodly ways, a good ten spans over the bank, on both sides. That left thirty spans of open air...and if he went high, he could come down and grab a lower branch, which would give him at least five more spans of distance....
It was insane, but he was getting tired, and if he stopped, they would kill him. He was hopelessly lost, and there was nobody to help him this time. If he didn't separate himself from them enough to where he could really get away from them, he was going to die.
Tarrin climbed higher and higher into the tree. He'd already chosen his branch, a long, heavy one that would take his weight almost to the very end, one that had several prime candidates for grabbing almost directly across from it. He could hear the Trolls rumbling towards him, a few of them almost under him; as soon as they had enough, they'd try to topple the tree. He reached the branch and squatted for a moment, preparing himself. If he missed, and fell into the river, he'd be speared before he could reach the other bank. He had to wait for the Trolls to get involved with knocking down the tree, so that he'd have enough time to recover from the jump and get out of sight before they could throw spears at him, or figure out a way to get across the river and chase him. They would get across the river. If they were smart, they'd find a long enough tree and knock it over the water. But that would take time, and all he needed was enough time to get onto the ground and away without taking a spear in his spine. He was much too fast for them to chase him down once he got a lead on them. At least he fervently hoped so.
The tree shuddered violently. That was Tarrin's cue. Taking a deep breath, Tarrin swallowed his panic and sprinted over the uneven branch, running along it as surely as if it were solid ground. He spaced his strides carefully so that he'd hit the very end and be able
to jump. He felt his heart go into his throat as his foot hit the jump mark he'd mentally made, and he pushed off from the branch with every bit of power and desparation that his tired body could muster, giving out a cry of effort as he hurled himself into the air.
Stretching out in the arc of his jump, his paws led the way as he sailed over the bubbling waters of the river, some fifty spans underneath him. Even from there, he could tell that it was going to be close. Had he been fresher, he could have put his feet on his target branch with such a run at it. But his exhaustion had removed that advantage. Even his inhuman strength had its limitations. He started descending, and for an instant he panicked, thinking that he wasn't going to make it. He missed his target branch by nearly two spans, but his forward momentum lined him up to grab one of the ones underneath it. He stretched out as much as he could, even his claws reaching out, reaching out for that branch.
He snagged it in his claws, and instantly his hand closed around it. He came flying down, then was snapped back by his hold on the branch. The limb cracked and splintered under his sudden impact on it, bowing it down deeply, but it had served its purpose. It had kept him from going into the river. He swung wildly on the branch for several moments, grabbing it in both paws. He caught a glimpse of something as he started slowing down, and just barely managed to identify it as a spear. He twisted his entire body around that arcing weapon, shocked and impressed that a Troll could throw such a huge spear so far. Natural invulnerability or no, if he was hit by something like that, the shock alone would probably kill him, if it didn't slow him down with him trying to pull it out. He pulled his body up and out of the trajectory of another spear, then physically curled his body up and around the limb above him. He hooked his waist around it, swung over, then hauled himself up, then jumped straight up reflexivey an instant before yet another spear tore him in half at the belly. The spear slammed into the trunk with a loud thok, and Tarrin's feet came down to land on the haft of it. It was embedded so deeply into the tree that it supported his weight.
